The Bracken Woods i just wanna go back to being the same

@Hemlocke or @Holly?

Where were the spirits? Nigaq whispered to them through the evening, called to them come night, but there was no response. She worried that it might be because of her being; to the wolves of this faith, she was a foreigner reborn. The people had welcomed her, but would the deities do the same? Nigaq sighed and walked away from her makeshift altar, figuring she could try again later.

When the sun sank and the moon ruled the skies, this is when the shadow cloaked hound crept out from the confines of his hollow and out into the open air. He takes a deep breath, the silence of the night pleasant- the quiet of it all, the birds having slept, the smaller creatures tucking into their burrows and tree holes. Still, the night was full of life. Life which took a much calmer, quieter, dangerous approach. 

Hemlocke was amongst then and he slunk through the bramble forest like the hellhound he believed himself to be. Another deep breath and he smelt the newcomer close. Though he had scent her time and time before, he had not met her yet. It had been he and his golden brethren for some time now. Finally, the group was forming though Hemlocke had yet to decide if he found interest in this or not.

Oblivious to her packmate's presence, Nigaq continued on her melancholy road. She wondered if there might be something to keep herself busy, but was uninterested in another patrol. The Apaata sighed and continued onward, humming an old song while she went.

He would stalk the greyscale agouti woman, his footsteps made of long, slow strides. Devilishly pointed ears  forth, listening to the humm which purred from her lips she filled the silent air. Had he any type of playful personality in him he might of screamed out at her to startle her to death and be left in a fit of laughter. But he wasnt the type. A boring, unconfident, sad wolf, if anything... So, he would only stop his walk behind her and let out a low grumble of a greeting.